


Sentimental Value

by Mandoli



Category: Emergency!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 02:13:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4161759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandoli/pseuds/Mandoli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike finds peace with the one thing that brings more comfort to him than anything else in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sentimental Value

If an item is yours, and it captures your heartstrings (going as far as tugging them, as a sign of affection), then it holds sentimental value. It can be done even if the item isn't exactly yours, but you claim it as such in short, 24-hour shifts.

Mike always comes in to the station a bit earlier than he should. Not because he wants the engineer from the previous shift to get his break, but to make sure that there's been no damage to the big engine parked near the closest wall he's next to. Or in this case, the door of the bay. His eyes shift from area to area, and he even starts walking around to take in the results since he had been around the station last. There are smiles every once in a while; a nod here and there.

What he sees is simple. No damage – or if you wanted to go further, no visible damage. “Looks good,” he says, turning his head to see who he's replacing. “I don't need to do anything equipment-wise...?” He knows what he'll get for an answer, and he'll re-check everything during the shift, making sure everything is up to par with what the standards are in the department. When he sees the other engineer shake his head, Mike extends his hand. “Thanks.” The two men shake hands, and they go their separate ways: Mike to the day room, and the person who he's relieving to the lockers.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The A-shift doesn't get that many runs during the day; it's fairly quiet around the station.

Out back, where the cars are parked, Chet and Johnny are shooting hoops to see who has to cook dinner for that night. They play a game of horse, and Roy is the “scorekeeper” to make sure that the two of them are playing fair. Marco is watching on from the hoses, and Cap is standing next to him. Both are in amazement that Chet is winning, having only one letter compared to Johnny's three.

As for Mike, he's in the bay, with the engine in front of him. While everyone else is having fun outside, it's time for a little personal time with his pride and joy.

He knows that the members of A-shift are his most important friends. He's known that for years. But those are his human friends. When it comes to the inanimate Big Red, well... You can't argue that it gets more attention than anything else in the world, including the crew at Station 51.

Mike takes a rag to the engine every night, before dinner, to make sure that it's spotless. He feels as though it needs to be presentable at all hours of the day, except for those where he's asleep. Taking care of something as special like that makes him happy. The other engineers in the other shifts take care of it as well, but if you asked them, they'd say that Mike is the one who puts in more effort than they do combined at times. That's not to say that he's over-dedicated to it. He loves to make it spotless, but he doesn't overwork himself to making it one of the nicer-looking pieces of machinery in the county.

As he finishes up polishing the knobs and buttons on the side (across from the squad), he can hear voices coming in from the parking lot. “I beat you fair and square, Gage,” Chet says, grinning from ear to ear. Dinner is Johnny's job for the night, and it's the only thing that matters after that.

He looks at the rest of the guys as they parade into the day room to watch a little pre-dinner television, and when he sees that they've all shuffled in there, he continues to polish what he can before Gage calls him in for food.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

There are nights when an unexpected bout of insomnia kicks in; when Mike just can't get to sleep worth his life. Most home remedies, such as counting sheep, don't work. Once he realizes that the lack of sleep is going to affect the rest of the shift, he quietly gets up, grabs his bunker gear, and heads out to the engine. His baby. And when he gets into his bunker gear and into the cab, that's when he starts drifting into Dreamland.

He feels comfortable sitting in the driver's seat, regardless of if the station is on a run or not. If there's ever a night where he finds himself not being able to fall asleep, it's always best if he gets some more personal time to himself. It would be bothersome, he thinks, if he doesn't let the others get sleep. Instead of beating his pillow over and over, annoying the rest of the guys, he'll get up and try to get some sleep in his seat. Nine times out of ten, it seems to work, and nobody realizes it until they get up in the morning.

It's not until the dawn, after the tones go off for the ritual that is a station test, that the rest of the crew wonders where Mike went off to – Cap sees that his bed is empty and made. Their engineer can't go far when he's still on shift. But when everyone comes out of the dorm to look for him, they silently peek around the engine to see that the driver's door is open. A boot is sticking out, and the foot and leg it is in are presumed to be limp.

The assumption is confirmed: There is nothing wrong. The quietest member of the A-shift has found peace in Big Red. “Let him sleep for a little bit longer,” Cap says, ushering everyone else in the direction of the day room. “It's been a long night for him. I'll nudge him if we get toned out on a run.”

Sentimental value of an item means a lot to a person - regardless of why it's important to begin with. In Mike's case, the object that holds that value is the one thing that provides comfort to him.


End file.
